


Grace

by LegendofMajora



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendofMajora/pseuds/LegendofMajora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izaya hates it when someone tries to hurt Shizuo, who belongs to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grace

It takes five minutes after one text message sent to Izaya to hear the sound of a key scraping against the lock on his apartment door. Shizuo sits in bed, eyes closed and a quick smile tugs to his lips, fading into something gentle and not so pulled with the gash on his cheek stretching with any movement. He'd rather not get any more blood on his bedsheets, already starting to stain old towels spread out as a makeshift bedsheet while his clean ones are in the wash. Not having another set and not wanting to risk staining more with blood, he settles for the towels when they're cheap and he doesn't care if they stain even if they're light blue.

A tuneless hum becomes audible as he hears Izaya's footsteps, squeezing his fingers gently around his phone despite the ripples of pain that come from the bruises, hearing the tap of Izaya's shoes in the doorway as he makes his way to where Shizuo is. As he does the humming gets louder, still at a soft volume and at least considerate of his headache throbbing at his temples and generally all around. Isn't there someone who doesn't want to pick a fight with him? A bunch of wannabe yakuza, nonetheless, with the wrong end of a baseball bat being slammed right back at them after they break it over Shizuo's head. He's still picking out splinters, mainly the ones that keep bleeding into his eyes.

The door to his bathroom clicks open, squeaking on its hinges before there are a couple moments of silence, Shizuo sighing as he tries to summon the urge to get up. After handing back what those assholes had coming, he's not in much of a mood to do anything at all. Not after a messy confrontation with the police and having to wait an hour at the police station while Tom talked things out. It's just not _fair_ that he's the one who gets charged, when the cop tried to blame him for some robbery that was on the other side of town on top of attempted murder charges. He'd barely contained himself, grumbling while Tom reminded him that it's not best to cause a scene, just take a couple days off and he'll settle the issue.

In the past, he would've said it's Izaya's fault. But seeing how his bedroom door opens and he doesn't have to look up to see the devil under the guise of an angel with a first aid kit in one hand and his jacket in the other as he shrugs it off. It makes a hushed sound as it falls to the floor, bed creaking with an added weight coming up and evening out as soon as Izaya's feet leave the floor. At this point Izaya won't bat an eyelash at the blood staining into towels, although expecting an explanation—Shizuo knows that his boyfriend wants to know these things. Down to every detail, every minute piece which is somehow supposed to be helpful, but the last time he complied to what Izaya wanted he remembers disappearances of some idiots of a nameless gang that tried to mug him with a stolen gun.

He also remembers the fire that lit up his boyfriend's eyes, not able to help himself from cracking his eyes open to Izaya with the blurring in his vision still there. It takes a couple of blinks, one hand sliding over his and interlocking with his fingers. Even if he doesn't lift his head he still makes an effort of a smile, content and a warm sense of calm floods into his head as soon as Izaya's weight tips forward and presses his lips to Shizuo's. His lips aren't as chapped as Shizuo's, moistened with dried blood and scrubbed off before he calls it a day and finds himself flopped on his bed ruining his extra towels. Izaya's a welcome calm to the rage of the entire day settling in his skin with the numerous cuts and bruises, clings to his lips with a bare gentle brush and lingers.

Shizuo feels Izaya's hand in his hair, forcing his eyes back open again when he's content enough to fall asleep now, though when Izaya's here he'd rather be able to see his boyfriend for as long as he can. Izaya's careful fingers prod over his hair, never touching the patches of dried blood or the scabs that dot across the back of his head. He knows he's a mess since he never made it to the shower and he probably smells like even worse, but now with as strong as he is he doesn't have the strength to stand up. To him, sleeping for the rest of the week sounds much better.

"If this is what Shizu-chan looks like, I'm sure the other guy probably isn't alive." Izaya chuckles to himself, lighthearted as he snaps and pops with his fingers, doing something with the first aid kit while Shizuo's eyes stay on him, focusing more on the fingers squeezing in his. Izaya's nails trace over the skin of his knuckles, looping in figure eights and circles around splits in his knuckles and the bruises disfiguring his flesh. "Though you've never killed anyone before, he could just be paralyzed." Alcohol stings on the first of Shizuo's fingers, a cotton ball swiping over each of Shizuo's fingers right before Izaya's thumb circles over the back of his hand, continuing on to the next hand while his hand links comfortably back into Shizuo's.

Shizuo laughs, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. It only makes him realize how tired he really is, feeling the sharp sting of alcohol on open flesh cut through the haze of exhaustion setting in. "Not he, _them._ " Izaya's hands never stop moving as they swab over the cuts and gashes of Shizuo's arms, but his motions turn a little stiffer than before. "Bunch of wannabe yakuza tried to keep me off _their_ turf." Izaya's sleeves roll up from his long-sleeved shirt, cuffed at his elbows while he grabs another cotton ball with the rubbing alcohol. From the look in his eyes Shizuo knows he's thinking, possibly calculating the kidnap and disappearance of those responsible and may as well be searching through the information storage of his brain for anything that would be related.

"Oi," grumbling with the harder press of alcohol into a gash on his arm, Shizuo raises his head to meet Izaya's eyes and that calculating look of his. "Izaya, relax, I'm fine. The other guys are a lot worse." It's best not to mention the mishap at the police station whenever Izaya gets into one of his more malicious moods. Especially when it has to do with Shizuo getting hurt, 'cause he knows Izaya gets angry whenever someone leaves a lasting mark on him and even if he wants to claim he loves humans, he certainly doesn't love them enough to keep from torturing them. But as Shizuo's hand slides up Izaya's wrist—holding in the hiss that comes from stretching the wounds—he catches Izaya's eyes again, blinking slowly with a sigh.

Izaya's eyes are bright, aware, and thinking too much about what those idiots would suffer if Shizuo let them. "I'm fine, Shizu-chan. You're the one grabbing me like you're going to throw me," he smiles mischievously, letting Shizuo's hand travel up his skinny arm and cup the nape of his neck, massaging gently for a moment or two before Shizuo's hand captures his cheek and coaxes him down. He follows easily enough, his other hand bracing itself with his fingers over Shizuo's wrist as he kisses him on the bridge of his nose, moving down to the tip, and then over Shizuo's lips with a satisfied purr as Shizuo's thumb strokes his face.

"Throw you?" Shizuo snorts as Izaya pulls away, making a face when he's not done yet and Izaya rolls his eyes at Shizuo's exaggerated pout, pressing a little more in one last kiss that's even harder to pull away from. "Doesn't look like I'll be doing that any time soon, unless you wanna try dumping more of that alcohol on me."

Izaya laughs, sitting back on his knees. "You don't look like you could do a lot of things, but you're still the kinkier one in bed." And it just so happens that he turns his head away, looking down and pretending to focus on his work while Shizuo's fingers tighten around his, tapping on the skin of his boyfriend's hand.

"Haven't heard you complain yet, are you?" Shizuo flashes a bit of a cocky grin, reminding himself of the gash down his cheek and why it's best not to tease too much while he's like this. Else Izaya will be the death of him, mainly as he giggles and moves to unbutton Shizuo's shirt. "By the looks of it, I'd say you're eager already. Go easy on me, I've got blood all over the place."

Izaya shoots him an indignant look, cheeks definitely a brighter color even if he tries to hide it as the buttons pop free. Shizuo's vest is somewhere, in shreds like his shirt is and he hasn't had the time to think of changing. "Am I the only one who knows how dirty you are, even if you're covered in blood?" Shizuo's pretty sure he hears _horny protozoan_ somewhere after but the sting of alcohol on yet another slice into his skin keeps him occupied.

"I fricking hope so," Izaya's fingers skitter over his chest with the lightest of touches, still feeling gentle and they have the warmth that seeps into his skin even if Izaya's just checking him for more, which there are bound to be plenty. Luckily none of them have gotten very far down his back without Tom bandaging them up. "'Cause if anyone knew about this then you'd have some stiff competition and I wouldn't have a reputation to upkeep." Izaya's lips brush against his collarbone, in the hollow of his throat and his eyes close again. There's laughter on his lips that shivers into Shizuo's bare skin, dipping into his throat like the tongue that licks a wet stripe over the skin there.

 _Mine,_ it says, and the look in Izaya's eyes can confirm it—Shizuo knows the kind of predatory look he has when he's not pretending to be serious. "Mm, I think it's best if they don't, Shizu-chan. You may get too many admirers showing up at your door, and I'd rather not tamper with the numbers of the human population. Even if they were attracted to how dirty your mind is." He should speak for himself, with those coy little licks over drops of sweat clinging to Shizuo's skin and wetting yet another cotton ball to clean off a particularly nasty gash over Shizuo's ribs.

"Nah, I'm good." Shizuo raises his arm again, feeling Izaya by memory and tracing his way up to his shoulder where he rubs his fingers into the skin. "I've got you, I don't need anyone else." Good answer, because that rubbing alcohol is still within Izaya's reach and he would rather not feel the burn if he says something wrong. Izaya hums an affirmative, carefully balancing his weight to lower himself down to Shizuo's chest amidst the antiseptic and alcohol to kiss a scar from one of his own knives.

"You could always find someone else," Izaya drawls, fingers digging in the kit for something else, probably bandages and gauze. "More keen to listening to you when you go out and come back looking like you've been through the lower levels of a yakuza building." And he doesn't? Shizuo snorts at the thought, feeling the gentle pressure of bandages being applied over cuts on on arm while he takes purchase on Izaya's knee as his arm tires. He could do a whole lot more, but the mental fatigue is what keeps him from getting up and doing any more of this.

Days like this are low ones—he hates feeling more like a monster than he already is.

"Why would I?" Cracking open one eye and then another, catching Izaya's eyes that have been on him since the start. "Maybe you're too good for me, that's all I can think of, but someone else is stupid." Shizuo strokes Izaya's knee, noting how his boyfriend comes closer with the action and watches him carefully, an amused sort of smile twisting his lips. "Can't love any of those idiots more than I love you." Izaya breathes a quiet sigh that isn't exasperation.

"Ne, I knew that, Shizu-chan..." Izaya carefully maneuvers over bloodstained towels, finishing up Shizuo's other arm before he bandages the cuts on his chest and below. "None of them could ever be me, ne? It'd be terribly boring to try and replace me." Shizuo laughs, remembering not to only when it's too late and the stretch and burn of cuts popping keeps him aware of this and how Izaya watches him closely. With the same look, the kind of fire in his eyes that can challenge him and it's still there with every look that can make his chest swell.

Izaya has that kind of effect on him. "Like I'd ever replace you. You know it's impossible finding anyone else _half_ as smart as you are, or with the same cute dimple when you laugh." Izaya rolls his eyes, pressing his lips together to try and disprove of Shizuo's astute observation even if it only proves him right. "I can't replace you, and you know that. Even if you try to get rid of me, you'll never shake me off."

"Learned some bad habits?" Izaya cocks an eyebrow, in his smartass way that's still sexy, even if he's being a bit too obvious. "I'm a bad influence on Shizu-chan." A finger traces one of the recently bandaged cuts, making the point sting a little more because Izaya's forgetting the most important parts, ever so conveniently.

"And I'm shit at making good choices. Doesn't stop me from trying." Shizuo feels the last of the cuts fall under bandaging, Izaya making quick work of everything easily enough. The gash on his cheek remains, stinging when that cotton ball carefully brushes over the skin. It doesn't stop him from wincing, just a bit, not that it hurts all that much but because Izaya watches him with this expression that's completely unguarded and he can see every thought that comes across Izaya's mind. "Do I need to say it? Because if you wanna hear it, I'll tell you. Tell you how much I love your skin under my hands and when you kiss me when I'm not expecting it. Even though you're a predictable bastard, and you're too possessive for your own good."

"Don't hear you complaining," Izaya mimics, stifling a laugh as he covers the gash twisting off of Shizuo's jaw under his ear and into his hairline with enough bandages to keep the thing from popping open any more. "Unless you want to keep being so blunt with your affections, and I'll start thinking you're just trying to wax poetic about how much you love me." A finger brushes hair from Shizuo's face, eyes flicking to his and a small smile on the flea's face, only for him. All of Izaya is for him, he feels it when Izaya touches him and when Izaya's looking at him like he's the only man on earth—and he feels _lucky_ beyond comparison when there's no one else and somehow he has Izaya convinced to stay with him no matter what.

"You're the one who talks in circles, bastard." Shizuo kisses lips that taste like salt, reminding him of Izaya's usual choice of any meal of the day and the only thing he worships _just_ as much as he loves him. Unless he's mistaken, to which he'd like to be proven that. "You know that you are much more to me than you realize. So beautiful, so damn intelligent, and _mine_ ," he takes the offer of Izaya's arms around his waist, helping him carefully move up and off bloodstained towels so he can change and stop stinking up the room, or covering Izaya's arms in his blood. "I don't know how I got lucky with you, but I'm not giving you back."

Izaya laughs, one hand moving from Shizuo to clear off the bloodied towels with a push off the side of the bed into a laundry basket he kicks up to the head of the bed with a stray foot. With Izaya moving towels off the bed he keeps Shizuo's weight balanced on him, eventually pivoting around to move back against the headboard. Propping pillows up he leans back, guiding Shizuo back down to lie in his lap with his skinny legs parted around him. And if that's not showing that he cares, not showing that the look in his eyes is meant for Shizuo and him alone to where he wants to keep anyone from seeing it, then he wouldn't know much about love anyway.

"Yours," Izaya agrees and then the look in his eyes turns. "Always mine..." But he does know Izaya, and the hands that stroke over his cheek and tear off his bloodstained shirt are sure signs that he's made enough right choices this far. "Ah, I don't think you could. I wouldn't let myself be cast off by Shizu-chan that easily." Shizuo doesn't doubt this, not with as sweetly as he kisses and with the casual touch of lips turning into a caress of lips and heat. Izaya's breaths fan across Shizuo's face, more sensitive against the gash on his cheek bandaged and given attention by Izaya's fingers as they trace up and down the skin of his throat.

"Love you," Izaya presses against his lips, sweeping over to the bandage set by his nimble fingers and one thumb over Shizuo's eyelid, stroking back and forth motions as he takes his time setting kisses that are soft and warm despite the lingering traces of blood and alcohol in Shizuo's skin. "Even if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out soon enough."

Shizuo laughs, chest quivering as Izaya takes his lips in yet another kiss with a devilish smile, content to lie here and kiss back so long as Izaya kisses him without any regard to anything else besides him. "Of course, you never stop 'til you're satisfied." Izaya purrs at the answer with his approval, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as his fingers run into Shizuo's hair. He thinks it's something to behold—equally terrifying and endearing to watch Izaya track down the idiots that dare to lay a hand on someone who belongs to him.

Someone too perfect to be his in the first place, and here he is.

"What?" Shizuo hasn't realized he's been humoring himself, getting a mischievous look from Izaya after he's parted from the kiss and rests an inch or so above Shizuo, watching him curiously. "Shizu-chan shouldn't be thinking about anything else." There's the possessive tone, claiming him and watching him with the feral look lying under a tamed pretense, only under Shizuo's fingers that rise to Izaya's lower lip and stroke over it with his thumb.

"Only you, flea." His eyes close as he rests his head, feeling Izaya's fingers work into his shoulders while his other hand takes his. "No one else." And they both like the sound of that, even if it's in the middle of a bad day turning into a better one and he knows Izaya will probably be obsessed with his new playthings for a day or two.

The kiss Izaya gives is a gentle nuzzle, content to keep warm lips over his until the taste of blood is replaced with only him.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, fluff is so cruel to me. I just want to practice to get better, but it's just so haaaard! Well, at least I got to write Shizaya and Izuo, so I'm happy with that. And it's my year anniversary on AO3, so hooray! Thank you all for reading for a year and I hope to entertain for the fandoms and people I write for in the years to come. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoying. ꒒ ০ ⌵ ୧ ♡


End file.
